


I'll Be Good

by LukaFawn



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: White Knight (Comics)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Arkham Asylum, Assault, Bathtub Sex, Boys Kissing, Breaking and Entering, Canon-Typical Violence, Clothed Sex, Contracts, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Lack of Communication, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Secret Identity, Sharing a Bed, Shower Sex, Sign Language, Silence, Stitches, Terms And Conditions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukaFawn/pseuds/LukaFawn
Summary: Batman agrees to have sex with Joker...but only if Joker doesn't speak during it or about it, ever. If Joker says so much as one word, Batman will leave him forever. Joker is desperate enough to agree.





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by an exchange of dialogue in Europa but it's set in the White Knight verse. ([Page 68 of Europa (non-spoiler)](https://readcomicbooksonline.org/reader/Batman_Europa/Batman_Europa_\(2016\)/68).) The dialogue is as follows:
> 
> Joker: "Still, even if this virus kills us...well...we'll always have--"  
> Batman: "Don't. Say it." 
> 
> So I wondered _what the heck are they talking about?_ and the idea for this story was planted. It was supposed to be a one shot but ended up being so long that I've had to divide it into three parts and whoops, I've accidentally written a novel.

Joker was hauled out of the river by the collar of his jacket and unceremoniously dropped onto the concrete sidewalk. He coughed murky water from his lungs. The rain pouring down made it feel like he was still in the river. Joker caught his breath and looked over at his saviour. 

 

Batman was on his knees, face tilted towards the sky. His cape hung limp behind him, weighted down by the water. The end still swirled in the river. His chest rose and fell unevenly, lips parted as he dragged air into his lungs. 

 

It was a fact that Batman would always save Joker but it was rarely at the cost of his own life. Joker hadn’t been sure before now if Batman would risk his life for Joker’s life. Now he knew. And if that knowledge didn’t turn him on. He crawled over to Batman on his hands and knees, head hung like a kicked dog. 

 

Batman didn’t move an inch. If he was watching he gave no indication that he would stop what Joker was doing. 

 

Joker used the plates of Batman’s armor to haul himself to his knees in front of the Bat. He clung to his Bat and kissed his chin. He kissed his neck and throat and along his jaw. 

 

The Bat didn’t shove Joker away. It took a few long moments for him to even move. When he did, it was to grab Joker by both his arms in a grip tight enough to bruise. He growled as he lowered his head to kiss Joker right on the mouth. 

 

That growl went straight to Joker’s cock, like it always did. Joker gave a soft mewl of want. He kissed Batman, poured everything into that kiss. It might be the only chance he got to kiss his Bat and Joker was going to take it. When he pulled away to breathe, Joker laughed. “Jeez, Bats, if I’d have known -”

 

“Shut up, Joker. If you say one fucking word, I’ll walk away from you and you’ll never see me again.” Batman tightened his grip so much that Joker lost circulation in both arms. “You’ll never touch me again.” 

 

Joker’s heart gave a painful squeeze. He pulled back and opened his mouth to speak - 

 

“One. Fucking. Word.” Batman warned. 

 

It took a few moments for Joker to beat down the urge to keep talking. He stared into Batman’s impassive face and decided that his Bat was serious as always. The idea of losing his Bat was the only thing that kept Joker’s mouth shut. Slowly, Joker nodded. But he wasn’t going to be silent without a treat. Joker leaned forward and kissed Batman again. 

 

Batman allowed it to happen, even kissed Joker back. He released Joker’s arms only to cup his face in a contrastingly gentle touch. His mouth tasted like blood and river water. 

 

Joker reached up and felt Batman’s pulse thumping fast under his fingertips. He pushed forward to deepen the kiss, ran his tongue along Bat’s lower lip then sank his teeth into soft flesh. 

 

Instinctively Batman recoiled but in a split second he was back, kissing Joker with renewed passion. His hands shifted from Joker’s face to his neck and the gauntlets dug into Joker’s shoulders. 

 

The pain was sharp and dull and Joker moaned into Batman’s mouth. He pressed his hips to Batman’s hips, willing him to  _ know _ , to  _ feel _ . The pressure on his cock was fantastic. Joker could probably rut against Batman and get off just like a teenager in heat. 

 

Batman’s gauntlets made a  _ shick _ noise when they were pulled from Joker’s shoulders. He didn’t apologize for the blood ruining Joker’s suit or the fact that those were more wounds on a battle scarred body. His gloved hands ran down Joker’s slender sides. One rested on his hip and squeezed; the other cupped Joker through his pants. 

 

Joker made a noise of surprise mostly because, well, he was. It was a well known fact that Batman was shy. So this was a little forward. A lot forward. Was his Bat finally opening up to him? Joker hoped so. He shook as he bucked against Batman’s palm. 

 

Teeth sank into the side of Joker’s neck. Batman sucked a love mark into the pale flesh there while he roughly palmed Joker’s cock. 

 

Joker shook at the attention. He loved pain, it got him off like nothing else. Usually after their dance, Joker would crawl home into bed - or into the shower if he had the energy - and rub one off before passing out. This was a tradition he kept up even in Arkham Asylum, much to the charigin of the other inmates and staff members. What could he say? Batman  _ did things  _ to him. He opened his mouth to demand more but Batman’s words echoed in his head. The Bat tended to go through with his threats. 

 

Batman deftly unbuttoned Joker’s trousers and pushed them down to his knees. 

 

The rain was  _ cold  _ like a good Gotham rain always was. Joker shivered and opened his mouth to make a quip. He let out a breathy moan instead. 

 

Batman’s hand was around his cock and this time there was no fabric between his rough glove and Joker’s skin. 

 

Joker dropped his head onto Batman’s shoulder. He was warm again quickly, skin reaching almost feverish temperatures. How many times had he thought of just this scenario? His knees ached, he’d just almost died in the river, and the rain was icy but Joker was in pure bliss. Joker dropped one of his hands down to Batman’s hip; subtly trying to figure out how to get into that Kevlar suit. 

 

“Can I help you?” Batman growled in his ear. His deep tone was an octave deeper. 

 

With some struggle, Joker bit back his initial response. It turned into a giggle instead of words. He nodded, eagerly. 

 

Batman took his hand off Joker’s cock. It was only for a moment, just long enough to touch some hidden clasp on the Batsuit. Then, suddenly, Joker had the access he’d always wanted. 

 

Joker giggled with absolute glee. Oh, this was going to be a treat. He wanted desperately to touch, to feel that firm flesh in his palm. So he did. Joker curled his fingers around Batman’s cock. 

 

Batman was hard as a rock, his skin smooth like silk. He groaned into Joker’s hair as Joker touched him. 

 

It felt so good to hold him. Joker wished he didn’t have his gloves on but he still loved the experience. He was salivating with how perfect it was. 

 

Batman resumed stroking. The heads of their cocks touched, precum mixing. It was hot, would be hotter if it wasn’t raining but Joker would take what he could get. He panted and let out soft, deep groans of pleasure. His blue eyes stayed open, fixated on where their bodies touched. 

 

Joker watched Batman watch them. Was he committing the experience to memory? Did he want Joker’s cock in his mouth? Did he want it in his ass? The pleasure that had been building suddenly capped. Joker came all over the gloved hand with a high moan. His legs shook, fingers hurt from how hard he was gripping Batman. He wasn’t sure if he should be sorry for that.

 

Batman didn’t complain. He slid his eyes half closed and held onto Joker’s hips with both hands. His hips rolled forward slightly, rhythmically. 

 

Joker was never one to tap down an impulse but now he refrained from speaking. He bit the scars on the insides of his cheeks to stop from saying the words that his Bat didn’t want to hear. But. If he could have spoken, Joker would tell Batman that he was beautiful and perfect and Joker wanted to break him apart and rebuild him like Batman had done for Joker. He leaned forward and kissed Batman again. Might as well get another one in before Batman came and, hehe, came to his senses. 

 

A gloved hand came up to grip Joker’s hair. Batman kissed him hard and groaned in his mouth. He gave a shudder as he came in Joker’s hand. His cock twitched in Joker’s hand, pulsing and warm. 

 

They kneeled in the rain by the river, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch their breaths. Joker’s heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. He couldn’t believe that he’d just done that with Batman. Batman’s hand was still threaded through Joker’s hair. With their faces this close, all Joker could see was the blue of Batman’s eyes. He would gladly drown in them. “I -” 

 

A finger on his lips silenced him. “Don’t ruin it, Joker.” The hand fell from Joker’s hair. 

 

A split second later, something sharp stabbed at his thigh. Joker looked down in surprise. A needle stuck out of his leg. He looked back up at Batman. Joker couldn’t even get the  _ what  _ of his  _ what the fuck  _ out before everything went black. 

 

When he woke up, Joker was back in Arkham. 

 

* * *

 

When inmates were very, very well behaved Arkham would reward them with things to put in their cells. Things tended to make cells feel more like rooms and rooms promoted better mental health than cells did. Joker had several cells in Arkham Asylum; one in solitary, one in the incurable ward, one in maximum security, and one among the general populace. 

 

It usually went like this: 

 

Joker would arrive and while he was healing he would be allowed to mingle with the other patients. This cell was his favorite of all of them because it held all of his Batman memorabilia. He would rest in this cell surrounded by images of his Bat - and even some of himself and the even better, rarer ones where they were together - and the toys and newspaper clippings and Bruce the Teddy Bear whose name no one could figure out even though it was  _ so obvious _ . 

 

But as Joker physically healed, he would start to go through withdrawals from his Bat. He became more irritated, more violent and his boredom grew. The longer they were apart the more Joker felt that he needed to see his Bat. Batman never visited Joker while he was with the general populace. So Joker had to fix that. A good fight or a good murder, usually did the trick. Even a few well-placed threats would get Joker moved. 

 

From there he would go to maximum security. Things were not allowed in the cells here. Usually after misbehaving, Joker would get a visit from the Bat himself. His tall, broad-shouldered crusader would sometimes talk to him but more often than not he just observed Joker through a shatter-proof window in the dead of night. On those nights, Joker always put on a show for Batman. Bats almost always stayed till the end. The Joker would suddenly feel empty and he knew that Batman was no longer watching. 

 

Once he knew that Joker was settled into max, Batman tended to stay away unless he needed something because someone else was misbehaving on the outside. Joker would go through the same process of withdrawal and boredom and start the process of causing chaos again. 

 

Then there were two options: solitary confinement or the incurable ward. Solitary was where the staff sent Joker when they - everyone - needed a break from him. It was also where they sent him when they didn’t want him to hurt himself too badly because they knew that Batman would never stand for it. Batman usually came to check on Joker once a week or so but his visits here tended to taper too, until there was practically no word from Bats. 

 

The incurable ward was a little different from max. They were allowed to bring  _ one  _ thing with them into the cell to make it a room. The beds also had sheets, which they didn’t have in max. Everyone’s rooms had their names printed on the doors. Joker’s door used to say Jack Napier but one night he’d reached through the window bars on the door and scratched off everything but the J. No one had fixed it. 

 

This time Joker had come in with  _ another  _ skull fracture on top of being half drowned and the usual bruises and cuts from fighting with Batman. They put Joke in his favorite cell; the general one. He was without pain killers because they didn’t work and his head was killing him like it usually did after a fight with Bats. Joker rolled over on his cot and pulled his teddy bear, Bruce, closer to his chest. 

 

Joker didn’t know if the new element to their relationship would really change anything. Previous attempts to get physically close to Batman like that had been met with nothing short of absolute disgust and rejection. It stung a little thinking about it but Joker was nothing if not persistent. He knew that Batman was just shy and that things needed to be taken a little slower. Apparently all it took was a near death experience to convince Batman to cave. 

 

Just to see if anything had changed, Joker tried to be good. He played with his figurines and whispered secrets to Bruce while the bear was hugged to Joker’s body and he stared longingly at the photos of himself and Batman that he’d framed and hung on his walls. Joker didn’t leave the cell unless he was forced to; preferring to live in his own world surrounded by his collection. When he did leave, Joker did what he had to do quickly. Showered fast, ate fast, walked around the yard fast. 

 

The staff were hoping that this would be one of Joker’s more peaceful visits to Arkham. For several weeks it was. Until Joker couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t even remember what Nygma had said but the next thing Joker knew, Nygma’s head was a bloody mess and there were several teeth on the crimson stained floor. 

 

Joker was relocated to solitary. Straight to jail, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Nygma’s blood had vanished from his hands and his uniform sometime during the walk to solitary. Joker was thrust into a soundproof padded cell. It was probably the place that Joker hated the most because in the silence he could hear his own heart beating. It was such an uncomfortable sound. 

 

It was only a few hours before Batman came to visit. As always, these visits were unrecorded and unsupervised. If they ended in violence then that was a risk the Asylum was willing to take so long as Joker was on the receiving end. Batman made an imposing figure standing in the doorway. He was almost too large for it with his broad shoulders and towering height. 

 

Joker was backed into a corner literally and figuratively. His eyes glued to Batman’s chest, watching the way it rose and fell. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the sight of all that muscle. He had seen Bruce Wayne; he knew it wasn’t just the suit that added that bulk. “Fancy meeting you here, Bats.” Joker gave Batman his biggest smile. 

 

Batman was silent as usual. He stayed in the doorway. There was tension in the air - there always was - but this time it shimmered between them rather than crackled. “Can I come in?” 

 

“You can  _ come in _ anytime.” The _ ‘me’  _ was heavily implied. Joker watched Batman’s face for his reaction - almost no response at all except a clenching of that sculpted jaw - and then let his eyes drop to Batman’s crotch. The cup made it hard to tell if Joker’s invitation got through to Bats. “Do you - “

 

Batman crossed the threshold and the door shut behind him. His cape swirled in the room, an entity of its own. The white of the room slowly vanished as it was replaced by Batman’s darkness. A Dark Knight indeed. Batman stopped in Joker’s personal space, only a foot away from him. He filled Joker’s vision. “What happened with Nygma?” 

 

Joker swallowed as Batman got closer. His heart beat faster. His back was literally against the wall. Heat shimmered between them and it pooled in Joker’s stomach. God, he hadn’t even been  _ touched  _ yet and he was getting hard just being in Batman’s presence. He remembered how good it had felt to touch him. 

 

Batman snapped his fingers. 

 

Joker started. “What?” 

 

“What happened with Nygma, Joker?” 

 

Joker struggled to remember. “Ah, Eddie…” What was it that had set Joker off? Was Eddie just conveniently there to torment or did that stupid mouth of his go spouting off some comment he no doubt thought was  _ smart _ ? Joker’s fingers tapped against his thigh. He couldn’t recall. “Uh, Eddie, he, um…” Batman smelled really good. Like leather and sweat and the polish he used on all his fun toys. But there was also the distinct scent of rain clinging to Batman’s batsuit. “Is it raining outside?” 

 

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Focus, Joker.” 

 

But Joker didn’t want to think about Edward Nygma. Riddler usually wasn’t more than a tiny beep on his radar at the best of times. He wanted to know if it was raining like that night Batman had pulled him from the river. He wanted to feel the slickness of Batman’s cape, taste the rain water in his mouth. Joker slowly raised his hand - no fast movements with Batsy unless he wanted to get hit - to touch the cape. 

 

Batman growled a warning low in his throat like a dog that didn’t want to be touched. In a blur of black, his gloved hand came up grabbed Joker’s hand. He crushed it with his grip, squeezed so hard that the little bones rubbed together. “No touching until you tell me what happened with Nygma.” 

 

Joker caught the phrase, knew what Batman was offering. But he just kept walking into these verbal traps. Joker grinned up at his Bat. He pointedly looked at their hands. “I think we’re already touching.” 

 

Bat’s lips didn’t so much as twitch with a smile. He just squeezed harder. The sound of Joker’s bones creaking was audible. 

 

“Jeez, alright, alright.” Joker didn’t try to pull away. He had learned early on that Batman had some triggers and withdrawing was one of them. If you ran, he chased. He struggled to remember what exactly had happened. He had a vague memory of being escorted in the hallway, hands cuffed behind his back and two orderlies flanking him. Riddler had been going the opposite way and when they met, he’d smiled and said - “You don’t really want to know, Batsy.” 

 

Batman growled again, letting Joker know that he wasn’t happy with that answer. “I’m not going to ask nicely again, Joker. Tell me what I want to know.” 

 

Joker swallowed again. If he didn’t answer a beating was in store for him...and not one like the last, ah, beating he went through. Joker’s cheeks flushed pink. “ _ ‘Nice hickies, Joker. I’ve got some too.’ _ And then he pulled down his shirt collar and there they were.” The memory tasted bitter in Joker’s mouth. 

 

It was easy to follow Joker’s logic here. “You did that because you were jealous?” Batman said. He loosened his grip on Joker’s hand but doesn’t let it go. “Everyone knows that Nygma and Cobblepot are a couple, Joker.” 

 

Joker could have smacked himself...so he did just that with his free hand. He knew that Nygma and Cobblepot were a couple. Everyone knew it. Joker had often made fun of them for it because they were such sorry villains so obviously the sex would have to be just as sorry. Joker dropped his hand down to his neck, applied pressure to the love bite there. Everyone knew what it was but no one,  _ no one,  _ had said anything about the mark as though they could will it away if no one spoke of it. 

 

“You remember what I said?” Batman moved Joker’s hand away from the mark. Several weeks later and it was  _ still there _ , albeit a little faded. He pressed the pad of his thumb against it. 

 

Dull pain radiated from the spot. Joker hissed though he loved the pain. “You say a lot of things, Batsy baby. Be more specific.” 

 

“If you speak, I go away forever.” 

 

Joker opened his mouth because yes he did remember that and was this going where he thought it was going to?

 

Batman gave him a hard look, a warning look. 

 

Joker sighed instead of spoke. He licked his scars and nodded. 

 

Batman finally let go of Joker’s hand. 

 

His hand ached and didn’t quite feel right but Joker ignored it. He touched the cape. It was damp beneath his fingers, cool and soft despite it’s durability. The scents of rain and Gotham city wafted off it, reminded Joker of everything he was missing by being inside Arkham’s walls. Mostly it filled him with a fierce longing for his Bat. Gotham was  _ nothing  _ without Batman. Neither was Joker. Joker sighed again, something close to contentment. 

 

Batman didn’t move an inch. He let Joker’s hands wander over his cape without complaint but also without encouragement. Did he not want this? It was extremely difficult to get Batman to do things he didn’t want to do. But Batman had offered himself up. So he must want it. Maybe now that it wasn’t a life or death situation, Bats was shy again. It had taken Joker a long time to figure out that shyness was Batman’s problem. 

 

Joker fought with himself for a moment so that he wouldn’t speak and scare off his Bat. He clacked his teeth together with frustration. If he could speak then he could reassure Batman, soothe away all those worries and that shyness. Joker was an expressive person even when he wasn’t speaking. He could use physical touch to his advantage, he could use it to communicate to Batman that this was okay. It was just the two of them, after all. No need to hide from anyone. Joker dropped the cape. He pressed himself along the hard length of Batman’s body and wrapped his arms around Batman’s neck. Joker had to stand on tiptoe to reach Batman’s mouth. 

 

For a few long moments, Batman was immobile. He was a statue beneath Joker’s hands. Then, slowly, he inclined his head so that Joker could kiss him. Some of the tension bled from his body as they kissed. 

 

The relief that coursed through Joker was sharp as a batarang. He kissed Batman enthusiastically, all teeth and tongue. The shaking started out of nowhere. It wasn’t exhaustion or fear. Joker was just suddenly trembling against Batman. 

 

Batman’s hands came to rest on his hips. He pressed a thigh between Joker’s legs, effectively pinning him against the padded wall. He placed a few chaste kisses on Joker’s wet mouth. Then he pulled his head away, blue eyes searching Joker’s face. “What’s this all about?” 

 

Joker gave Batman an unamused look. He knew that there would be  _ consequences  _ if he verbally answered. The only thing that saved him this time was that he didn’t know why he was shaking like this. A shrug was the only answer he could give. 

 

“Do you want to stop?”

 

Joker shook his head. Never. He never wanted to stop this. If he could have Batman here with him forever then he would. He ground his hips forward a bit, cock catching against Batman’s thigh. Pleasure curled within him. 

 

Batman got him off with a slow grind of their hips. The entire time he had Joker pinned with his thigh. It was something so impersonal but so good because Bat sucked more love bites into Joker’s collarbone. He kept the pace slow and sensual, borderline painful. 

 

Joker’s orgasm built just as slowly. Heat and pressure grew within him until Joker was dizzy with the teetering pleasure. He was desperate to cum, would have begged if it was allowed. As it was, he found himself biting the scars on the insides of his cheeks and covering his mouth with his hands. Joker shook with need, with how close he was. When he finally came it was drawn out waves of pleasure that crashed over him with their intensity. It felt like minutes rather than seconds and Joker dropped his head onto Batman’s shoulder. 

 

“Do you feel better?” Batman asked as he eased Joker onto the floor. He was gentle with Joker, fingers leaving imprints but not bruises. 

 

Joker nodded. His eyelids were heavy. His Arkham Asylum pants were wet with his own cum and they rode up uncomfortably. He was too tired to change it. An orgasm had never left him feeling so drained before. Bats hadn’t even gotten off. Joker’s hand shook as he raised it. He could probably give a hand job before falling asleep. 

 

Batman pushed his hand away. 

 

Joker whined.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Humph.”

 

“I really am.”

 

Joker crossed his arms and pouted. He wasn’t shaking anymore, he realized, except for a few aftershocks. There was no staying mad at Bats though. Joker hooked a leg around Batman’s ankle and tugged him closer. Looking up at Batman, Joker had a better idea than a handjob. He opened his mouth. 

 

For a detective, Batman was awfully slow on the uptake. After a few agonizing moments, Batman removed the piece of his suit over his crotch. He slipped his cock out. It was red and leaking precum and  _ Jesus  _ why wouldn’t he want a blow job or something? 

 

Joker scooted backwards so that his back was straight against the wall. His mouth was still open, waiting. This was a good way to shut him up. He ruined it by giggling. After flashing Batsy a quick grin, Joker held his mouth open again. 

 

Batman’s cock was heavy on his tongue. Thick and long and hot. It dripped salty bursts of precum. Batman held his hips still. 

 

Joker snaked his hands up the backs of Batman’s thighs. He applied gentle pressure, encouraged the Bat to move.  _ Use me _ , he thought,  _ fuck my mouth like you hate me.  _ Joker swallowed around Batman’s cock and whined. 

 

Batman rolled his hips a few times. When Joker just moaned, he picked up momentum. His hips snapped forward and the head of his cock hit the back of Joker’s throat. It was quiet in the cell except for the obscene wet sound of Batman fucking Joker’s mouth and his panting. 

 

Joker let his eyes slide shut as he let Batman use his mouth. He liked how Bat’s cock tasted in his mouth and his heavy it was on his tongue. He was very careful with his teeth, knew that he’d get punched or worse if he let them touch that perfect cock. 

 

It wasn’t too long before Batman’s rhythm stuttered. He pounded mercilessly into Joker’s mouth, cock halfway down his throat. Bats groaned and shuddered; his cock pulsed as cum poured directly down Joker’s throat. 

 

Joker only really got to taste the last few drops on his tongue as Batman pulled out. He swallowed those down too. When Joker opened his eyes he was alone. If he wasn’t a mess, Joker wouldn’t have thought that Batman had been there at all. 

 

* * *

 

After a month without Batman, Joker was jonesing for his Bat. He wanted to be touched, to be held and kissed and marked up pretty. His cock agreed with him and he was having a hard time getting off by himself. It was annoying. And it was time to leave. 

 

When the nurse came to give him his medicine, Joker strangled her with his Arkham Asylum shirt. He lowered her to the floor of the cell, snatched her keycard, and left the cell. 

 

In the hallway he met a guard and used the fire extinguisher on the wall to bash the man’s head in until it a soupy red mess on the floor. Joker took the guard’s pants, belt, and shoes. The shirt was ruined so Joker left it. 

 

Joker used the nurse’s keycard to get into the staff’s wing of the Asylum. It looked depressingly similar to the patient’s side, if a little cleaner. He walked until he came to one of the guard’s rooms and stole a shirt and hat. Joker grinned at himself in the small mirror hanging on the guard’s wall. He grabbed a baton and a pack of cigarettes then followed the signs towards the smoking area. 

 

Despite the fact that Joker hadn’t done a damn thing to hide his Glasgow scars and pale skin, no one stopped him. He walked through door after door until he came to the side exit that marked the smoking area. The smoking area was a small bricked off space large enough for a picnic table and not much else. Cigarette butts littered the ground even though there was an ashtray next to the table. Joker climbed onto the table and hefted himself onto the wall. 

 

The door opened. Joker made eye contact with the young orderly who looked back at him in shock. Well, he got pretty far before they noticed he was escaping. Joker waved and dropped onto the other side of the wall. He ignored the shouts as he ran across the lawn towards the wrought iron fence. 

 

This fence had always been a bitch to get over. Once there was a time when he’d been able to slip  _ between  _ the bars but that was before Jack Napier had decided to take steroids. Joker understood the game that Harley had set up but that didn’t mean he had to like everything that went down. Joker approached the fence at a run. He reached up, grabbed the horizontal bar that ran near the top, and used his momentum to vault over the spikes. 

 

Joker felt his ankle shatter. The bones broke and his teeth chattered as he was overcome by the pain. He reached through it, told himself to ignore his pain. It was just signals to his brain. It didn’t matter.  _ Keep going _ . 

 

He kept going. Joker limped away from the fence. His ankle screamed pain at him. The flood lights went on behind Joker and his shadow stretched out in front of him. He gritted his teeth and ran for his freedom. The fine bones in his ankle protested and rubbed against each other. Joker had tears in his eyes. 

 

Joker checked that he still had the baton. He’d need it if they sent the dogs after him. Hopefully he would find a car before then but Arkham Asylum was isolated from the rest of the city to keep the crazies away from each other. Joker wasn’t counting on finding a car. He ran until his lungs felt like they were going to burst and his ankle felt like it was on fire. When he couldn’t run, he slowed to a walk and from there to a hobble. The baton was extended and used as a cane. 

 

It would have been a nice night and a nice walk if it hadn’t been for Joker’s broken ankle. The night air smelled of ozone and the scraggly pines that grew around Arkham. Thunder rumbled overhead and behind him Arkham Asylum was lit up like a Christmas tree. Soon it would rain and wash away Joker’s footsteps. The longer Joker breathed fresh air the more likely that he would remain free. 

 

All at once the storm clouds overhead broke. Rain came down by the bucketful. Joker’s guard uniform soaked up the rainwater in seconds. Joker’s tongue darted out to lap at the water running down his face. He paused to hold his open mouth towards the sky for some blessed water. It was enough to wet his tongue but not enough to satisfy his thirst. No matter.

 

Joker continued through the forest. After spending so many years at Arkham Asylum, Joker knew these woods well. There was a storage shed a mile away from him. Shed may have been a generous term. It was little more than a collapsing shack but Joker had hidden in it more than once.

 

Headlights shone through the trees. Joker kept walking. He knew that he’d been spotted but he didn’t want to go back yet. Not until he found Batman. He needed...he needed. Alone in the woods with no one to hear him, Joker growled. The car stopped. 

 

Joker stopped too. He gripped the baton tightly. 

 

The headlights kept Joker from seeing who got out of the car until the figure moved in front of them. Batman’s huge frame cut across the beams of light. He was a beautiful and imposing silhouette against the headlights of his car. 

 

“Bats!” Joker was so happy he almost dropped the baton. Almost. A fight would probably happen before they could make any progress. He limped towards the Bat, drawn by his gravitational pull. “I was looking for you.” 

 

Batman didn’t move to close the distance between them. “What happened to your leg?” 

 

Joker stopped walking. He glanced down at his ankle but the guard’s pants covered his skin. Joker grinned at Batman. “Landed wrong after jumping the fence.” Joker added, “to come see you.” 

 

“Can you walk?”

 

Joker laughed. “How do you think I got out here?” 

 

Batman seemed to accept that answer but he also seemed angry. He still hadn’t moved to either embrace or punch Joker. “If you promise to be good I’ll let you ride in the Batmobile.” 

 

Joker cocked his head. His grin widened. The Batmobile! It wasn’t as much fun as the Tumbler - where he usually ended up draped across Batman’s lap because there was only one seat - but it was roomier. “Okay! I promise I’ll be the very best.” He drew an X over his heart. 

 

Batman finally closed the distance between them. He grabbed Joker’s elbow in a bruising grip and took the baton from him. It was tossed into the woods before Batman escorted Joker to the passenger side. Once Joker was sitting down, Batman buckled him in and closed the car door. 

 

The inside of the Batmobile was warm and dry. Joker slumped down in his seat. His ankle throbbed. 

 

Batman opened the drivers side door and slid into the seat. He glanced at Joker. “How bad is it?” 

 

“Broken.” 

 

Batman sighed. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel then nodded to himself. “We’ll take care of that first.” Batman drove the car on the road through the woods without speaking. He didn’t even turn the radio on. The only noise was the gentle hum of the engine and the metallic ping of rain on the roof. 

 

Joker alternated between looking out the tinted windows and looking at Batman. He wasn’t sure where they were going but it didn’t seem to be either Arkham or Gotham. The Bat wasn’t giving any clues either. “Can I turn the radio on?” 

 

“No.”

 

“Oh, come on, Batsy. I haven’t listened to music since the last time I was out.” Joker reached for the radio knob. His hand wasn’t smacked away. He pushed the button to turn it on. A news channel filled the silence in the car. Joker changed it, adjusted until he found a pop station. He sang along with every song that came on and he tried not to be too obnoxious about it. Joker could sing well if he wanted to. 

 

Batman gave a long suffering sigh. He muttered something about picking battles. 

 

“That’s the spirit, Bats.” Despite his relief at having found Bats, getting off his foot, and singing along to the radio in  _ the batmobile _ , Joker was still wary. Their relationship just changed dramatically and though it was for the better, Joker wasn’t sure if there would be more changes. Or what those changes would be. 

 

Half an hour later they pulled up to a cabin in a part of the woods that Joker was unfamiliar with. Joker pressed his nose to the glass and stared out into the wet night. “Did you bring me here to kill me?”

 

“Excuse me?” Batman deadpanned. He parked the car then reached over and unbuckled Joker’s seatbelt. 

 

“Taking a gal to a remote cabin in the woods where no one can hear her scream is suspicious.” Joker crawled over onto Batman’s lap. “Don’t you watch horror movies at all?” 

 

Batman tried to shove Joker back into his own seat for a few moments before giving up. “Why would I watch horror movies when my life  _ is _ one?” 

 

Joker’s eyes widened. “Wow! That was pessimistic even for you!” He wrapped his arms around Batman’s neck. The steering wheel dug into his side. “It’s no wonder you don’t smile with a mentality like that.” 

 

“Shut up,” Batman grumbled as he maneuvered then out of the car. He ended up banging Joker’s broken foot twice and apologized twice for it. He kicked the car door shut, leaving a muddy boot print on its sleek surface. Then he carried Joker up the porch steps and into the cabin. “Have you been starving yourself again?”

 

“A gal has to keep her figure girlish.” Joker looked around the cabin. From what he could see it was a nice place. Kind of high end. Probably some rich asshole’s getaway. He wondered how Batman knew about it. 

 

They went through the living room and into the kitchen. “Joker,” Batman growled. He set Joker on the kitchen table. 

 

“I forget. Sue me.” Joker shifted so that his legs wrapped around Batman’s waist. He ignored the fiery throb of his broken ankle. 

 

“Don’t tempt me.” Batman leaned into his space and pressed their foreheads together. For a moment they breathed the same air. 

 

And just like that Joker was no long sure if he was allowed to talk. Were they having a moment that would lead to sex? He couldn’t tell for certain, didn’t know if the quip was in relation to suing or fucking Joker. He bit the scars inside his cheeks. 

 

Then Bats pulled away, out of Joker’s embrace. “Stay.” He left the room entirely. 

 

Joker let out a breath. He propped himself up with his elbows but let his head hang back. Water dripped from the ends of his hair onto the wood beneath him. The entire uniform was soaked and there was a puddle beneath Joker. A shiver wracked his slender frame. He unbuttoned the guard’s shirt and tossed it to the floor. Then he pulled over his Arkham issued undershirt. The belt followed along with one boot. 

 

Joker tried to get the other one off but it would need to be cut. His ankle was just too swollen. He was just easing off the table when Batman returned. 

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bats held a first aid kit in his hands. He did not look pleased to see Joker moving but then he never did look pleased about anything. 

 

Joker would kill to see Batman smile once. He sat back on the table. “To get some scissors for my boot.” He wiggled his foot and winced as pain shot through his leg. 

 

Batman shook his head. He set the first aid kit on the table beside Joker. The first thing he pulled from it was a pair of heavy duty scissors. “I told you to stay.” He started to cut away the boot. 

 

“But I’m cold!” Joker whined. If he had been in the Asylum the boot cutting would have been an excuse to nick Joker’s leg. Batman didn’t do that. He was careful and did the best he could to ensure minimal pain to Joker. It was still such a trip that Batman could act like this in a situation that wasn’t life or death. 

 

“I turned the heater on,” Batman replied. Once he had the fabric removed all that was left was to take the sole off. He gently pried it from Joker’s foot. 

 

Joker’s ankle was a deep purple color and swollen to the size of a grapefruit. He reached over to poke it. 

 

Batman swatted his hand away. He rolled up the pant leg enough to get a good look. Then he took off his gloves and touched Joker’s ankle with his bare hands. It was the first time that Batman’s bare hand had touched Joker’s bare skin. It hurt - not because Bats was being rough but because Joker’s ankle was broken - but that was par the course. To be expected. 

 

_ Their skin was touching.  _

 

Joker was so excited that it made him dizzy. He gasped at the feeling of those warm fingers brushing over his tender skin. He could almost  _ feel _ his pupils dilating. Joker whined softly, wasn’t even sure it came from his throat until Batman looked at him. 

 

“Am I hurting you?” Even with the cowl Joker got the impression that he’d lifted an eyebrow. 

 

“Gods yes!” Joker breathed out. His laugh was breathy. Their skin was touching. Batman’s hands were touching Joker’s skin. He wondered what it would be like to hold hands with Batman. His own hands shook. “Don’t stop. Get these pants off me, Bats.” His fingers trembled and fumbled with the button.  _ Touching, touching, touching me _ . 

 

Batman picked up the scissors again and cut along the seam of the pants. He pulled the sopping wet fabric away. Joker wore nothing underneath them. His eyes lingered for a moment then he went back to work with Joker’s ankle. Even though the skin wasn’t broken Batman cleaned the area with little disinfectant wipes. He handed Joker a bottle of pills. “Don’t overdose.” Bats took out a roll of bandages. 

 

Joker examined the bottle. It was generic Ibuprofen. He counted out thirty-six pills and started swallowing them dry. “Hey, Bats?” 

 

“Hmm?” Batman wrapped the bandages lightly around Joker’s foot. Not too loose but not tight enough to cut off circulation. 

 

Joker’s tongue darted out to lick his scars. “Do ya think you could blow me after this?” 

 

Batman paused to look at Joker’s face again. “Why?” 

 

“I, er, haven’t gotten off since last time you visited me and it’s not for lack of trying,” Joker admitted. He watched Batman’s face as the vigilante processed that information.  One thing that never occured to Joker - and watching Batman’s expressions now, it should have - was that Joker’s sexual needs never occured to Batman before this. Batman had probably thought that the last two times were a fluke; just one offs. It occured to Joker now that despite years of innuendo and inappropriate ass smacks, Batman never saw Joker as a sexual being. 

 

“You realize that I do have sex, right? And masturbate?” Joker blurted out. He didn’t like the revelation he saw in Batman’s face. Not one bit. “I am a more or less healthy adult.” 

 

“Of course,” Batman agreed. He tied the end of the bandage on so that he wouldn’t have to look at Joker. “I’m sure we both have...more or less healthy sex lives.” 

 

Joker didn’t like thinking about the other people that Batman had sex with. He knew that Bats and Catwoman had been a thing for a while and there was that relationship with some semi-immortal woman that abruptly ended. Otherwise he sort of thought...okay. So maybe Batman wasn’t the only one who needed the eye-opener. Joker fingered the wedding ring he wore. 

 

Naturally the movement didn’t escape the gaze of the World’s Greatest Detective. “Does Harley know…?”

 

Joker shrugged. “I’m not the man she married.” He didn’t really consider that brief episode as Jack Napier to have any relevance to his life now. As far as he was concerned, nothing about his relationship with Harley had changed. Except that Joker wore the ring now. Something - Jack, probably - refused to let him take it off. “Do your Robins know?” 

 

“Absolutely not and it’s going to stay that way.” Batman grabbed Joker by the calves and pulled the clown to the edge of the table. “Here’s how this is going to work, Joker.” 

 

Joker’s heart started to beat faster. He wrapped his arms around Batman’s neck again. The suit was cold and still wet against Joker’s damp skin. He didn’t care. 

 

“We’re going to go to the living room and you’re going to keep that foot elevated. We’ll spend a couple of hours here and when your clothes are less wet, I’m taking you back to Arkham. You are not going to knock the ice off your and you are not going to speak so much as a single word.” Batman’s voice got lower as he spoke. “And if you’re good, I’ll get down on my knees and blow you. Alright?”

 

Batman had a terrible habit of not saying when. Joker nodded so as to not lose his lover. 

 

Batman untangled himself from Joker’s limbs and got an ice pack from the freezer. He grabbed the dish towel off the stove and wrapped it around the ice pack. Then he handed it to Joker and scooped Joker into his arms again. As promised, Joker was deposited in the living room on the couch. Batman grabbed a throw pillow and put it on the coffee table to cushion Joker’s injured foot. 

 

Joker was brimming with words to say. They wanted to tumble from his mouth in purrs and giggles but he ground his teeth together to keep the words of sweetness and teasing inside. He would be good. He could be good. At least until this encounter was over. Joker could hold back his voice. 

 

Once Joker was settled on the couch, Batman sank to his knees in front of him. His shoulders were so broad that Joker’s legs were spread wide. He ran both hands up Joker’s bare thighs. Goosebumps rose in his wake. His thumbs caressed the seams of Joker’s hips. Bats rested his cheek against Joker’s thigh and watched as Joker’s cock swelled. 

 

The silence drove Joker mad. He didn’t like being quiet or being  _ in  _ the quiet. He could hear his heart pounding and the shift of Batman’s skin on his. Silence was overrated and so were these quiet noises. Joker wanted to snap at Batman to  _ touch him like he meant it _ but he held his tongue. 

 

_ “We’ll spend a couple hours here.”  _ Batman’s voice echoed in Joker’s head. Oh god did he mean he was going to drag this out for literal hours? Joker whimpered. He pushed his hips a little. 

 

Batman looked up at him. “It’s not like we don’t have time.” 

 

Joker didn’t want  _ time _ . There was time for  _ time _ later. He wanted Bat’s handsome mouth around his cock and his tongue and throat caressing him. There wasn’t a no touching rule so Joker reached out and pushed Bat’s head down. 

 

Bats glared at up at him. Joker had just enough time to wonder if his Bat had ever done this before when Batman licked a hot stripe up the underside of Joker’s cock. 

 

Joker gave a shivery groan. His cock twitched. 

 

Batman licked Joker’s length a few more times before sucking the head into his mouth. He didn’t go further than that, didn’t try to take more of Joker’s cock into his mouth. The tip of his tongue pressed against Joker’s slit. The tips of his fingers dug into Joker’s boney hips. 

 

_ Oh, _ Joker thought in a daze,  _ he’s a tease _ . Pleasure curled through Joker and his toes curled with it. His hips rolled up but he couldn’t go any deeper. 

 

Bats teased at the sensitive head of Joker’s cock. He swirled his tongue around it and sucked gently. One hand slid down to wrap around the base of Joker’s cock but even that pressure was too light. 

 

Joker could only put up with teasing for so long. He couldn’t even  _ ask  _ for more. Not that he planned on asking. Joker hooked his good leg over Batman’s shoulder and used both hands to push Bat’s head down again. Teeth scraped against his cock and Joker keened at the sensation. He rolled his hips up into that wonderfully wet mouth. He kept one eye on Bats, gauging his reaction. 

 

While he didn’t look happy, Bats also didn’t look  _ more  _ pissed off so that was something. He took Joker’s cock with more grace than Joker had expected of him; though the fact that his fist was still curled around the base could have had something to do with the lack of gagging. After fixing one more glare at Joker, Batman hollowed out his cheeks and bobbed his head. 

 

Joker’s head fell back onto the couch. He moved his hips up in short, sporadic thrusts. The lack of rhythm meant that Batman’s teeth kept scraping his skin and  _ oh god  _ it felt good. His moans filled the silence between them. 

 

The thing about Batman was that he was all about control. So even though Joker did his best to trip Batman up, the man was just too adaptable even while blowing someone. He started a rhythm with his mouth and hand on Joker’s cock while his other hand was splayed across Joker’s abdomen to keep him still. His strength was just another thing to swoon over. Being the World’s Greatest Detective, he used his teeth. A little less than Joker would like but still so amazing. Batman’s mouth was hot and wet and perfect. His tongue moved with Joker’s cock and it felt so good. 

 

Joker chased his pleasure with that mouth. As he got closer to orgasm the words built in his throat. Words like  _ ‘oh yes, just like that, use your teeth, baby, oh gods yes!.’  _ He didn’t trust his moans to not turn into the words he desperately wanted to say. Joker brought his arm up to his mouth and bit into his forearm. 

 

Batman growled around his cock. 

 

The vibrations traveled through Joker’s cock and suddenly Joker was there. As he came, Joker bit down hard on his arm to muffle the  _ Bats _ that wanted to come out. He came onto Batman’s tongue and  _ god  _ if that wasn’t a sexy sight to see. 

 

When Batman pulled back he swallowed Joker’s cum, looking him in the eye the whole time. 

 

Watching Batman swallow Joker’s cum was a euphoric experience all in its own and it almost made Joker wish that they could do that again right away. Joker swallowed and gave a breathy laugh. He leaned forward to kiss Batman. 

 

The Bat went stiff under Joker’s touch. Apparently they were done being sweet on each other. 

 

Joker leaned back again, pouting. He eyed the Batsuit but couldn’t tell if Bats was even hard beneath the codpiece. Were they done? Probably, if Bats was reacting like that to a kiss. Was Joker allowed to talk now? 

 

Batman stood up. “Do you want a drink, Jay?” 

 

_ Don’t ‘Jay’ me.  _ Joker nodded, sullen and silent. 

 

Batman disappeared into the kitchen. 

 

Joker sighed and uncrossed his arms. The bite on his arm broke skin. He licked the blood off. His ankle still held a ghost of pain but wasn’t as bad as it was before. He was stalling. Joker opened his mouth and closed it a few more times. “Well now that that’s over, where the hell are we?” Joker asked. He looked around the living room but there weren’t any personal details in the cabin that he could see. That reinforced his idea that whoever owned this place rarely used it. 

 

“One of Bruce Wayne’s properties,” Batman replied from the kitchen. He came back with two glasses of water. 

 

“Does B-man know you’re using his cabin to house a criminal?” Joker took the offered glass and drained it in one go. “Water is boring. Is there any juice?”

 

Batman took the empty glass with a sigh and returned to the kitchen. He returned a few seconds later with orange juice for Joker. “What Bruce Wayne doesn’t know won’t kill him. And we’re not staying much longer.”

 

Joker drank his juice and wondered if Bruce Wayne was the type of man to notice when his juice was missing. Since the fridge was stocked it was obvious that someone came here to at least check up on the place. He dropped the empty glass on the floor to see what Batman would do. “Do you want me to get you off?” 

 

Batman’s eyes followed the glass as it thudded harmlessly on the carpet. His mouth was turned down in a frown. “I’m fine.” 

 

Now it was Joker’s turn to frown. “Do you have a problem with me?” That came out snappier than he’d meant for it to. 

 

Batman was silent, which was an answer in itself. 

 

Joker made grabby hands towards Batman. “Come here. Let me touch you. You never let me  _ touch you _ .” When that got no response, he pulled his hands in and patted the couch. “Sit next to me, darling. Please? Just sit next to me.”  _ I need you _ . 

 

Finally Batman relented. He put his glass on the coffee table and sat on the cushion beside Joker. There were three inches of space between them. 

 

Joker rolled his eyes. What was it with the Bat? Why did he act like this? Joker leaned against Bat’s shoulder to close the distance between them. He tensed until it was clear that Batman wasn’t going to shove him off. Still, it was hard to break years of conditioning. Touching Batman almost always meant pain and degradation. The Bat’s tongue could be as sharp as his batarangs. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

 

Batman huffed. “Don’t ruin it, Joker.”  

 

Joker laughed. He stopped when he felt Batman tense against him. This was a new game. The rules weren’t the same. Joker needed to keep up with the changes. He reached out and took Batman’s hand in both of his. He held it between his hands and laced their fingers together, silently marveling at touching Batman’s bare hands. It still sent a pleasant chill through him.   

 

They sat like that for a few minutes with nothing but the rain as a soundtrack. Joker couldn’t keep his hands still. He ran his fingers over every one of Batman’s fingers, pressed their pads together, slid his fingertips over Batman’s wrist. There were scars even on his hands. Joker traced a thick one on Batman’s palm. The quiet of the moment weighed in on Joker. It grated against his nerves. Joker didn’t  _ do  _ quiet. “Does this place have a radio or something?” 

 

“Can’t you just enjoy the silence?” 

 

“Silence makes me antsy.”  

 

“I think your clothes are dry.” Batman got up again, left Joker alone. He didn’t seem worried about Joker running away. 

 

Joker glanced at the front door then decided against it. He got what he wanted, even if it wasn’t enough. 

 

When Batman returned he had the guard’s clothes in his hands. They were dry. He handed them to Joker.

 

“What, do rich people have dryers that don’t make noise?” Joker reluctantly accepted the clothes. 

 

“Yes,” Batman said. He watched an unbearable distance away as Joker got dressed. He didn’t step in to help Joker get the pants back on. 

 

Joker’s movements were sharp and jerky. “You said we’d have  _ hours, _ ” he spat. This didn’t quite feel like a victory. 

 

When Joker was dressed Batman helped him to his feet and slid an arm around his waist. “It’s time to get you back to Arkham.” 

 

Joker leaned into the touch. “But Batsy-“

 

“It’s not like you won’t see me again the next time you break out.” Batman had made up his mind and once again Joker could only deal with the fallout and consequences. 

 

_ That wasn’t the point! _ Disappointment crushed him. Joker laughed as Batman escorted him out of the cabin and back into the rain. He laughed on the drive back to Arkham and as the orderlies checked him in. He laughed as he was escorted back to solitary; the same cell he’d escaped from sans the nurses body. Joker laughed and laughed and laughed. 

 

* * *

 

Joker waited until his foot healed before he broke out of Arkham again. This time he hid in a laundry basket in the back of a truck. The escape was successful and to celebrate, Joker robbed a bank. He did it impulsively, all on his own. That was successful too. Now he had the funds to plan something big and exciting. 

 

At his safe house he greeted Harley and the hyenas with a kiss each. He was feeling generous. “I’ve got to learn sign language, Hars.” 

 

Harley tilted her head. She scratched Lou behind the ears. “Why do you need to know that, puddin’?” 

 

Joker couldn’t tell her. Harley was intelligent and she wouldn’t let him just have this if he told her. She would want to  _ psychoanalyze _ this thing with him and Bats. And she’d already proved that she could manipulate them both. “I just do,” he snapped. 

 

Bud and Lou went tense at his tone. He was their daddy but hyenas lived in a matriarchal society; Harley was their queen and mother. They would attack him if she told them to or if they thought Joker was going to hurt her. 

 

Joker loved them but they were a pain in the ass sometimes. He dug treats out of the jar on the counter and threw them to both animals.  “I need to learn sign language,” Joker repeated. 

 

Harley nodded slowly. The gears of her mind were obviously working. “Alright, Mistah J. I’ll see what I can find for you.” 

 

Joker left her to that and took a shower. He fingered himself and pretended it was Batman inside of him. “Ah, Bats, harder!” Joker didn’t try to be quiet as Batman’s name poured from his lips. Harley already knew about this. He fingered himself with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. When he came it was with Batman’s name he nearly yelled. He rinsed off the mess he’d made then got out of the shower. 

 

His hair was still dripping when he lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Joker didn’t like not talking. There were things they needed to talk about. So if Joker couldn’t verbalize, he’d find another way to communicate. 

* * *

 

 

Batman had an annoying habit of showing up without warning. Sometimes he made grand entrances by shattering windows. But other times he just slipped into a room and  _ watched _ . 

 

This was one of those times. 

 

Joker knew he was there because even though Batman was silent and still, Joker always knew when Batman was there. At the risk of sounding romantic, he had a sixth sense when it came to Bats. However, Joker was busy with his plans. He was going to clone dinosaurs and set them loose on Gotham. 

 

But to do that he needed amber and DNA decoding machines and machines for modifying DNA and an incubator or womb to grow and hatch the dinosaurs in and…..this was a lot of planning and a lot of money. Joker might just scrap the whole idea of cloning his own dinosaurs. There were other things he could do; like bring to life the dinosaur bones at the museum. That sounded significantly easier both in planning and on his budget. 

 

Joker moved around the apartment shirtless, a lit cigarette hanging from his lip. He wore blue slacks and suspenders and a pair of gloves. Joker took a pencil from behind his ear and jotted down a note before replacing it. Then he flicked his ashes into an empty tray. He wondered how long it would take for the Bat to make a move or if he was just content with watching Joker from the shadows like a creep. 

 

Joker poured himself a shot of whiskey then sat down on the stool in front of his artist desk to keep up the appearance of getting something done. The truth was that he found it difficult to focus now that he knew Bats was here. His phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and swiped to answer the call. “Yellow?” 

 

“We’re on our way back now, Joker,” Harley said on the other line. She’d developed a weird habit of calling him every time she took Bud and Lou out for a walk. 

 

“Why don’t you take the kids to Ivy’s place tonight? Have a girls night or whatever.” Joker sucked nicotine-laced smoke into his lungs. “I’ve got to finish these plans, sweetie. It’ll be easier without them here.” He twirled the ring around his finger. In the back of his mind a voice told that he’s a fucking liar. 

 

“Alright, puddin’,” Harley agreed easily. She did that now. Joker couldn’t fathom why. “Love ya.” 

 

Joker mumbled something that might be the words back. He hung up the phone and set it on the desk. He flicked his ashes again and drank the whiskey shot. It burned going down but it was a good burn.

 

“Sometimes you still remind me of Jack,” Batman’s gravelly voice came from the shadows. 

 

“I’m not him,” Joker bit back. Sometimes he wasn’t sure, though. Sometimes he felt more like Jack Napier than Joker. And sometimes he felt like Jack Napier had never existed before. He snuffed out the cigarette and twisted around to face Batman. The Bat was closer than he’d expected. Joker suppressed a shudder. 

 

“I know, Jay.” Batman kept his movements slow as he reached out to tilt Joker’s chin up. There was something territorial about the way Batman kissed Joker. He kissed him deep and breathless. 

 

Heat coiled in Joker’s belly. His hands sought Batman’s body and he was frustratingly met with kevlar. When would he get to touch his Bat? Really touch him? He growled into the kiss, bit Batman’s lip so hard it bled. Joker sucked the blood from the wound. 

 

Batman growled back. He slipped his hands beneath Joker’s thighs and hefted him up. 

 

Fuck that was sexy as fuck. Joker wrapped his legs around Batman’s waist. He moaned into Batman’s mouth. The taste of blood between them spurred them on. It was a familiar taste between them. 

 

Batman didn’t ask where the bedroom was. He simply carried Joker into the room and dropped him on the bed. They were apart for only a second before Bats was on him again, kissing him roughly and running gloved hands down his chest.

 

Joker pulled at his pants, struggled to get them off. He got the suspenders off his shoulders. He hoped Bats would shed some of the suit but he didn’t count on it. That didn’t mean Joker couldn’t show off his expanses of pale, scarred skin. 

 

The Bat pulled the slacks off Joker and the suspenders with them. He was on Joker again, growling as he licked a hot stripe up Joker’s stomach. 

 

Joker’s abdomen fluttered. He hadn’t been expecting that. His first instinct was to make some sort of quip but he swallowed down the urge. 

 

Bats was methodical and thorough as he licked and touched and bit Joker’s torso. He sucked on both of Joker’s nipples and pressed his thumbs into sensitive scars. His mouth left dark love bites all over Joker’s pale skin. More than anything, though, Batman seemed determined. Everything he did was with a purpose. 

 

Joker laid back and took what Batman was willing to give. He ran his hands over the cowl and across Batman’s shoulders but he couldn’t touch skin like this and he didn’t want to stop the Bat to kiss him. He arched off the bed and wrapped his legs around Batman’s waist and moaned. 

 

There was a soft click as Batman removed the codpiece and pulled his cock free. He was on top of Joker again, rubbed their cocks together. He radiated heat and dripped slick precum.

 

Joker was on his back, knees pressed against his chest and thighs spread apart sluttishly. He knew what was going to happen and he wanted it bad. He ached for it. But there was one problem. Joker wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut for it. He couldn’t even finger himself with Batman on his mind and  _ not speak _ . Some sluttish things came out of his mouth while he masturbated to the idea of Batman fucking him and Joker couldn’t risk a single word. 

 

So when Batman settled between his legs, cock pressing hot against Joker’s ass, Joker had to stop him. If only for a moment. There had to be something in the utility belt that would stop Joker from talking. He pushed against Batman’s chest, for the first time in his life trying to get the Bat away from him. A whine of distress slipped out. 

 

They called Batman the world's greatest detective for a reason but now he was slow on the uptake. Batman took his sweet time easing back. He didn’t even fully retreat; his cock was still pressed to Joker’s hole. “Are you okay?” 

 

Joker nodded...then shook his head. How could he say it? He wasn’t allowed to speak and Batman hadn’t yet picked up all the signs. Hell. Joker didn’t even have a sign for this. He was still learning sign language. The trembling returned and this time Joker understood that it was a potent mix of anxiety and anticipation. He wanted Bats so badly and the idea of losing him made Joker sick. 

 

Batman tilted his head slightly. “Did you want to stop?” He always asked that question as though he expected Joker to say no. And he was right; Joker had never asked him to stop. Didn’t want him to stop. Just to take precautions. 

 

Joker shook his head. 

 

“Worried about protection?” 

 

Joker rolled his eyes. He knew that he couldn’t even catch most diseases. Only diseases that had been specially catered to his body and the last time that had happened, Batman had figured out how to make him well again. He shook his head again. 

 

Batman seemed to be realizing that by taking away Joker’s voice he was limiting their interactions. True, Bats seemed relieved when they started the game and Joker shut up; as much as that hurt. But they also couldn’t negotiate or talk through things like a normal couple. Joker either had to deal with whatever Batman wanted to dish out or he had to get everything out in a rush before they got busy. Joker could sense Batman’s will weakening. If Batman let him talk now, even just once, it would open the door for future conversation during sex. The Bat sighed as he withdrew further. He pulled a small notebook and a pen from his utility belt. He really did have everything in there. “Do you promise to behave if I give you the pen?” 

 

That was a fair request considering Joker sometimes stabbed Bats just for the hell of it. He nodded agreement and made grabby hands for it. 

 

Batman gave him the pen and paper. 

 

Joker carefully wrote out two words in long, scrawling handwriting. Then he turned the notebook around so that Batman could read it. He watched the way Batman’s lips moved as he mouthed the words. The notebook read: 

 

_ GAG ME _

 

There was a brief moment of stillness while Batman was processing what Joker was asking. It seemed that Joker broke him a little. Then like an old steam engine warming up, Batman started to move again albeit jerkily. He took the pen and notebook, tucked them back into the utility belt. From another pouch, Batman withdrew a gag. It was an actual gag, the kind you would buy at an adult store. The ping pong-sized ball was made of rubber and the leather strap buckled around the wearer’s head. “This is one of those things that you don’t ask about.” 

 

Damn him, Joker thought. How could Batman just carry around a literal sex thing and expect Joker not to ask about it? What else did he have in that utility belt? Why was a gag considered something that he’d needed. Did Batman buy it just for Joker? Has he used it on anyone else? That last thought made jealousy burn hot in Joker’s abdomen. Batman was  _ his.  _ Joker gave a noncommittal hum in his throat. 

 

Batman was gentle when he put the ball in Joker’s mouth. He was careful not to tug on Joker’s hair while he buckled the straps. Two fingers slipped between the strap and Joker’s skin, testing. “Feel alright?” 

 

Joker nodded. His tongue worked against the gag. It wasn’t so big that it was uncomfortable though he knew that the longer it was in the more annoying it would be. He reached between them to grasp Batman’s cock and guide it to him. 

 

Batman backed off and pulled a small packet of lube from the utility belt. He ripped it open with his teeth and poured it onto his cock. Batman’s cock was big and Bats probably knew it. He was clearly trying not to hurt Joker as he pushed the head in slowly.

 

Joker didn’t care about being hurt. He genuinely didn’t. Bats should know that. But with his legs trapped between them and Bat’s weight pinning him down, Joker couldn’t do much to encourage Batman to pound into him. He moved his hands in the motion for  _ more _ and let out a frustrated whine around the gag. 

 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Batman lied. 

 

Joker knew it was a lie because if Bats didn’t want to hurt him them he wouldn’t keep hurting Joker. Not that Joker was complaining. He liked pain. And his ribs had been broken so many times that now he could suck his own dick and that was fun. He gave Batman an unimpressed deadpanned look and made the sign for  _ more _ again. 

 

Batman wasn’t gentle but he wasn’t rough like Joker wanted either. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing because he found Joker’s prostate on the second thrust and from there he kept on brushing it with his cock. 

 

_ Oh, Bats!  _ Joker moaned around the gag. Pleasure burst in Joker like fireworks under his skin. He wanted more. He wanted Batman to fuck him like he owned him but this was good too. This was something Joker could get off on. His cock dripped precum onto his belly and he longed to touch it but he couldn’t reach his own cock. 

 

Batman shifted his weight and squeezed a hand between Joker’s thighs. The blades on his gauntlet cut into Joker’s pale skin. His gloved hand was rough against Joker’s cock as he jacked him off. 

 

It was heaven. Joker was glad he asked for the gag because he couldn’t contain the words that spilled out.  _ Oh fuck yes god yes Bats oh fuck just like that don’t stop Bats Bats Bats fuck me yes!  _ When he could keep his eyes open he watched Batman fucking him and it was so hot. The sexiest thing that he’d ever seen. Red blood running down his thighs and Batman’s cock disappearing into him over and over. The slight bulge in his abdomen because Batman was  _ big _ . Joker came all over Batman’s glove.

 

Batman kept pounding into him. He didn’t slow his pace as he fucked Joker through his orgasm. The oversensitivity bordered on painful but Joker didn’t care. Bats was chasing his own pleasure and wasn’t that just like Batman? The Bat moaned and shuddered as he came inside of Joker. 

 

They stayed tied together unmoving for a long moment. Then Batman eased into motion. He pulled out of Joker with a groan. 

 

Joker shivered beneath him. He slowly unfurled. His joints popped, his feet dangled off the edge of the bed. Without Batman’s weight holding him down, Joker felt like he might just float away. His breathing was shallow, eyes half lidded. That was good. They needed to do that again soon. Would Batman stay for an encore? 

 

Batman unbuckled the gag and gently pulled it free from Joker’s mouth. He made a face at the sheer amount of saliva that dripped off it. Batman left Joker for the bathroom. The sound of running water could be heard. 

 

Joker lay on the bed unmoving. His body felt electric and hot and pulsing. He could feel his heartbeat everywhere. He was still sure that he’d float away or disintegrate into nothing. 

 

“Jay?” Bats was beside him again. The gag was nowhere to be seen and the codpiece was back on. “Jay,” Batman said his name softer. 

 

Joker decided he didn’t mind being called Jay. He met Batman’s eyes. His jaw hurt when he opened it. “Bats.” His voice was hoarse. 

 

“I’m leaving now, okay?” Batman pointed to the window where the sun was starting to lighten the sky from black to deep blue. 

 

Where had the night gone? Joker nodded. He reached up and pulled Batman down for another kiss. 

 

This time Batman let it happen. He didn’t stiffen up and even kissed Joker back. They kissed and it was sweet and unhurried and could have turned into more. “I’ve got to go.” 

 

Joker nodded again. He knew. The sun was up and Bats would turn into a pumpkin if he stayed. He let his hand fall back onto the bed. When Batman was gone, Joker curled up on the end of the bed and pulled the blankets over himself. He breathed in their combined scents and some of the ache in his chest left. Bats would be back. 

 

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that Joker found out his plans had been stolen from his desk. His half finished cigarette was gone too. He wondered what that meant and spent the rest of the day pondering it and half-heartedly drawing up new plans. 

 

* * *

 

As soon as he was caught, Joker forgot what had led to the chase. They were in an empty warehouse that had once been used as a bullet manufacturing factory. It had stood empty since the war ended and was one of Joker’s many unused properties. 

 

Bats had tackled Joker and now he straddled Joker’s ass. 

 

Joker moaned. His face was smooshed against the concrete but he didn’t care.

 

Batman pulled Joker’s arms around to handcuff them but didn’t quite get around to doing it. Instead, he dropped the cuffs and ground down against Joker’s ass. He doubled over Joker and bit the back of his neck. 

 

Joker keened. He pushed his ass back against Batman. 

 

Batman got up, pulled Joker to his feet, and then slammed him against the nearest vertical surface. His mouth was on Joker’s, his kevlar armor pressed against Joker’s tailored suit. He pulled Joker’s pants down to his knees. 

 

Joker shimmied out of them. He knew where the button was for the codpiece and he took it off himself. His fingers curled around Batman’s cock and fuck it was always amazing how hard these fights made them. He moaned again and considered just giving Bats a blow job and calling it good because it’d been a long time since that lovely cock was in Joker’s mouth. 

 

Bats made the decision for him. He took the gag out of the utility belt. 

 

Joker accepted it with as much dignity as he could muster. He still wasn’t entirely wordless when Batman fucked him so this was the safe option. 

 

Once the gag was in place, Batman hoisted Joker up by his thighs. He kept him there with one hand while the other dug through the utility belt again. This time it was a small packet of lube that he applied to his cock. When he was soaked with it, Batman pushed into Joker’s body. 

 

Joker tightened his legs around Batman’s waist and grumbled because of the utility belt digging into his calves. It came out as indistinct vocalizations around the gag in his mouth. He gasped as Batman’s cock hit his prostate and shuddered against the wall he was leaning on.

 

Batman kissed him, moaned into his mouth around the gag. His fingers dug bruises into Joker’s pale thighs. He pulled out and then thrust in again at that perfect angle. 

 

Joker tilted his head back and keened. Pleasure shot up his spine, curled through him. He rolled his hips down as best he could, trying to keep up with the rhythm that Bats set but it was all he could do just to hold on for the ride. 

 

Batman’s mouth was undeterred. He planted open-mouthed kisses along Joker’s jaw and throat. His teeth grazed and then bit down on the tender flesh where Joker’s neck and shoulder met. It was already bruised and red from the last time they’d done this but Batman was unconcerned with such things. He was marking his territory, letting everyone in Gotham know that the Joker was taken. 

 

Joker’s eyelids fluttered. He caught a glimpse of those gorgeous blue eyes and tried to meet them again - he loved the eye contact - but movement distracted him. It came from the other side of the warehouse. Dread formed in his stomach like a lead weight. He wrapped his arms tighter around Batman’s neck as he watched over the vigilante’s shoulder. Joker was suddenly very aware of their surroundings. 

 

Someone was encroaching on their territory and that just wouldn’t do. He watched the intruder with his perrefirials so that he wouldn’t know they were  on to him. Whoever this was wanted to get at them while they were at their weakest. Joker had to admit that when they were together they tended to block out everything else. 

 

He should tell Bats. Joker opened his mouth...and closed it with a frustrated noise. He wasn’t allowed to talk now! He couldn’t even talk with the gag in his mouth. Would Bats consider this a pass or would he dump Joker after they took care of the problem? It was so frustrating not being able to communicate with Batman. 

 

The intruder slunk across a catwalk on the opposite wall. He had a briefcase in hand. 

 

Oh shit. That was either a gun or an explosive. Joker tapped Batman’s shoulder but of course the vigilante didn’t feel it. His armor was too thick. Joker was still shamefully moving with Batman. Still chasing his own pleasure in the face of death. How very like him. He dug his nails into the side of Batman’s neck; one of the few spots the armor wasn’t as thick. 

 

Batman groaned but didn’t otherwise notice that Joker was trying to get his attention. This was the single-mindedness that Joker had longed for but now it was going to get them both killed. 

 

Joker rolled his eyes. He needed to do something dramatic. Dramatics usually got the Bat’s attention. With great regret, Joker pulled off of Batman’s cock. As soon as he was free, Joker was hit by an ache of emptiness. 

 

Batman pulled him back down and they were back to square one. 

 

Joker moaned in relief and frustration. God he loved Batman’s cock. 

 

The man on the catwalk was setting up his weapon. He didn’t seem to notice that he’d been noticed. The fucker sure as hell didn’t look like he was sweating over who he was about to kill. That needed to be fixed. 

 

If Bats wouldn’t pay enough attention to Joker then it was up to him to take out their would-be assassin. Joker shifted his weight to his shoulders and dropped one hand down to the utility belt. Bats didn’t usually like guns but that didn’t mean he didn’t carry projectile weapons. 

 

Joker played with guns when the mood suited him and all of his men had them. He was a damn good shot. Joker freed the weapon from Batman’s belt and hefted it. He closed his green eye, took aim, and fired the weapon. There was barely any recoil. Joker didn’t know what he was firing; only knew that with good aim he could take out whoever it was with whatever this was. 

 

As soon as the projectile touched something, there was an explosion. It wasn’t a very big one, just enough to blow open a locked door. But the fact that it had touched the person trying to kill them meant that there were gooey bits of flesh and blood splatters lining the walls and catwalk. 

 

Joker’s eyes widened with surprise. Then he let out a laugh of joy. Not only did he neutralize the threat, he also had a  _ blast  _ doing it. 

 

To his credit, even Batman would flinch when an unexpected explosion went off. He squeezed Joker’s thigh until it crossed the line straight into pain. “Drop it, Joker.”

 

Joker dropped it. He didn’t need it right now. 

 

“What did you do?” Batman looked over his shoulder. He was still inside of Joker, cock still hard and proud. The noise he made was less than a roar but more than a growl and it was all rage. “Who was up there?” 

 

Joker shrugged. He didn’t know. He hummed as he thought about the signs he would need to communicate an assassin. His hands went through the motions slowly. Learning sign language was a slower process than he’d hoped it would be. It probably didn’t help that he was learning a French version rather than American. 

 

Batman shook his head. “I don’t understand.” 

 

Joker arranged the fingers of one hand in the shape of a gun and held it to his temple. Then he did the same with the other hand and pointed the ‘barrel’ at Batman’s head. For good measure he made a gun sound effect. Or, the best he could do without the full use of his mouth.

 

“Someone was going to shoot us?” Batman looked over his shoulder again. It spoke volumes that he was still buried balls deep in Joker’s ass. “And you killed them?!” 

 

Joker tapped on the armor and shrugged. He dug his nails back into Batman’s neck and shrugged again. Then he pointed to his throat and shrugged a third time.  _ What can I do?  _

 

Batman growled but the sound didn’t seem to be directed at Joker. He let out a sigh of unhappiness.

 

That wouldn’t do. Joker cupped Batman’s face and nuzzled him. He would rather kiss him. It took a few nuzzles before Batman started to respond again. There was nothing they could do about the dead man and the threat was passed. No point in not finishing. Even Batman could see that.

 

“We’ll deal with that later.” Batman pulled back to whisper against Joker’s lips. “Right now, I’m going to make you cum on just my cock.” 

 

Joker’s face warmed with arousal. He let out an eager whine and rolled his hips to meet Batman’s next thrust. 

 

* * *

Joker had to say something. Now was a good opportunity because if they lived through this then they would be fucking like rabbits by the end of the night. “You’re too soft on me, Bats. I’m not going to break and you know it.” Joker grinned. “You’ve tried.” 

Batman peered around the edge of wall. He didn't even spare Joker a glance. “What are you talking about?” 

 

Joker looked around the corner too. There was just more sewer. It was genuinely disgusting down here but this was where Batman was so Joker was here too. They were playing an elaborate game of hide n seek with Killer Croc. “Sex, Bats. I like it rough”. 

 

“Is now really the time to bring that up?” Batman slunk along the wall, his batsuit making him look like a shadow in the dim lighting. 

 

“I won’t get a chance later!” Joker replied, trying to keep his voice light. He didn’t bother to hide. There was a good chance that Croc already knew where they were and was just fucking with them. Especially since Joker was the one who had gifted Croc with the children they were currently on a mission to get back. Joker kept that tidbit of information to himself. 

 

“Shh!” Batman ran off ahead on silent feet. 

 

Was this what it was like to be a Robin? Ugh. It sort of made Joker glad that he’d missed that particular train. Being Batman’s other half was much better than being his pet bird. They were, after all, equals. 

 

Joker followed at a walk. He was light on his feet but he also knew that facing a maternal Croc was not something to rush into. 

 

Batman was convinced that Croc was a mostly-soulless beast but even beasts loved children. Humans had a particular affinity for them - much more so than reptiles and even most other mammals - but if the offspring were claimed as their own, reptiles showed some parenting instincts too. Though that was mostly  _ before  _ the little ones hatched.  _ Children  _ may have been too strong a word. The small humans that Joker had gifted to Croc were mere  _ babies _ . He had delivered them to Croc in three giant egg-shaped boxes because Joker was funny and ironic and  _ smart _ like that. Three infants “hatching” from eggs would trigger Croc’s parental instinct. 

 

Something rumbled among the sewers. It sounded like Bat’s growl but on steroids and played through a megaphone. That would be Croc. 

 

Joker followed the sound and rounded the corner. He paused to take in the scene. 

 

Batman was faced off against Killer Croc. He looked small in the face of Croc but he didn’t back down or show the slightest hint of fear. “Croc, give back the children you stole.” 

 

“I didn’t steal them, Batman. I  _ found _ them.” Croc’s tail curled protectively around the three eggs. They’d obviously been open but since Croc wasn’t quite prepared to be a father there was nothing else to put them in. “If their parents dumped them here then they’re mine.”

 

“They weren’t dumped, Croc. They were stolen.” Batman risked a glance back at Joker. Something about his look made Joker think he might have figured it out. “Their parents want them back.”

 

The growl started again. It shook droplets of filthy water from the ceiling and rattled old bricks. “This is my domain, Batman, and everything that comes into it is  _ mine _ .” 

 

A baby cooed and everyone froze. She looked up at Killer Croc and giggled when she saw him. Her little arms reached up for him. 

 

Joker and Bats saw the look that crossed Croc’s face at the same time. Batman tried again, “They aren’t yours. Give them to me so I can give them back to their families. Look at this place, Waylon. Do you want them to live here? Where they’ll get sick? Where they can’t play in the sunlight? What will you feed them?”

 

Croc paused. He looked down at the three babies. Like most new fathers, Croc had just assumed that somehow he would make it work. He hadn’t yet realized how in over his head he was. Slowly he turned his back on the eggs with their babies in them. He sat down and said nothing. 

 

Batman inched closer. He picked the babies up carefully, juggled all three like he did it on the regular. Maybe he did. Though if babysitter was Batman’s day job then Joker was going to laugh himself into a coma. Once he had all three children in his arms, Batman backed up. He kept his eyes on Croc incase he changed his mind. When he was in the entrance of the tunnel, Batman said, “Thank you, Waylon.” 

 

Without turning around Croc replied, “I am not a monster, Batman.”  His voice was heavy with emotion. 

 

Joker stopped to watch Croc break down. He cocked his head as he watched tears slide down that reptilian face. “And people say I have a baby obsession.”

 

Batman stopped walking. 

 

Croc stopped crying. He slowly turned towards Joker. There was a question in his eyes. 

 

Joker grinned. 

 

Joker never forgot how fast Croc could move but it was wonderful to see him in action. A real thrill. Croc crossed the twenty foot space between them in a matter of seconds. He bellowed out Joker’s name and his clawed hand slashed across Joker’s ribs. The force was enough to knock Joker back ten feet onto his ass. 

 

Joker hit the wall and slid down it. The air was knocked out of his lungs. It hurt to breathe. His side felt like it was on fire. This didn’t feel like broken ribs though. 

 

Batman stepped between them. He still held the three stolen babies. “Waylon! Please!” Batman shook his head slowly. “Don’t hurt him anymore. Joker is an idiot but -”

 

“He’s your idiot.” Croc sighed. “Yes. We know.” He slowly turned around and went back to his nest. He curled himself around the cardboard eggs that had held ‘his’ children and deliberately closed his eyes. 

 

Batman faced him. His expression was stony. “Get up.” Then he started walking away. 

 

Joker had no choice but to get up and follow. He pressed a hand to his ribs and didn’t like the hot-cold-pain sensation. Though he refused to look at his wound, Joker knew it was not good. He focused on not thinking about it, on watching Batman’s back as the Bat led them back out of the sewers. A reptile and the sewers; the wound would probably get terribly infected. 

 

Nightwing and Batgirl were waiting for Batman and the children. Joker stayed out of sight. They were shocked when it turned out to be babies. “Get them home,” Batman ordered. He watched them leave. Only once they were gone did Batman turn back to where Joker stood in the shadows. 

 

He said something that Joker didn’t hear. The world tilted. 

 

They were back at the cabin. Joker must have lost a few minutes between Bats dragging him out of the sewer and arriving. “Put your arms around me, Jay.” 

 

Joker did. He whimpered. His ribs hurt. Were they broken again? This felt different; like there was a stretch and something cold touching his organs. 

 

Batman set him on the couch and cut away his clothes with a batarang.

 

“Sexy,” Joker mumbled. He felt woozy. And a little feverish. The smell of the sewer almost overpowered the smell of blood. “Darling, you don’t have to make that face. It’s okay, Bats. Just a scratch.” He rubbed his palm against Batman’s stubbly cheek. The stubble felt nice on his palm. 

 

“I can see your ribs, Joker,” Bats whispered. Once Joker was naked, Batman picked him up again. He carried him into a bathroom and stood Joker on his feet. 

 

“Why do you keep mentioning my weight when we’re here? I promise I’ve been eating. I think.” Joker blinked under the spray of water. It was warm and so much nicer than the nasty sewer. Joker didn’t know how Croc could live like that but maybe that’s why he preferred Arkham. Since Batman wouldn’t allow Croc to live among the other Gothamites on the surface. “Where did your suit go?”

 

“I don’t mean your weight. I mean your actual ribs. The skin over them has been ripped open.” Batman’s voice was tight with worry. He held Joker up as the water washed over them. 

 

Joker looked down at the swirling red water. He blinked a few times and focused on his ribs. Ah, yes, there among the fresh blood and torn skin were white hints of bone. “Oh.” He looked up at Batman’s face. It took his mind a moment for it to click. “No fucking way.” 

 

Batman turned his face away but it was too late. Joker had seen.  

 

Joker reached up - ignored the pain of doing so - and cupped Batman’s face with both hands. He forced Batman to look at him. So this was what his Bat looked like during the day. Batman was handsome but Joker already knew that. “I want you to kiss me.” 

 

“I need to take care of you,” Batman protested. His wet black hair hung in his eyes. 

 

“Then  _ take care of me _ ,” Joker purred. He’d lost some blood but that didn’t stop what he had left from going straight to his cock. He pressed his erection against Batman’s thigh partially for the friction and partially because he wasn’t keen on falling over. 

 

Batman lowered his head to press their foreheads together. They breathed the same humid air. “Your wounds are serious, Jay.” 

 

“You know I’ll be fine,” Joker countered. He could very nearly kiss Batman now. “I’m always fine.” 

 

Batman gave a low growl of frustration. He held tight onto Joker. His erection pressed into Joker’s belly, close to the wound over his ribs. “That doesn’t mean I’m not…”  _ Worried. Sorry. Scared to lose you. _

 

Joker pressed forward. The head of Batman’s cock touched Joker’s bone and torn flesh and they both started at the sensation. It was a blissful pain and Joker had a thought that he dismissed immediately. Bats would never go for wound fucking. He turned around in Batman’s arms so that Bats couldn’t see the wound. He looked over his shoulder, met Batman’s eye. “Fuck me, Bruce.” 

 

“Fuck, Jay.” Batman spread his legs to lower himself to Joker’s height.

 

Joker stood on tiptoe to help him. His nails scratched uselessly at the tile on the wall. There was nothing to give him purchase. 

 

Bats pushed into him without lube for the first time. The water was a poor substitute but neither wanted to bother. He moaned out a name:  _ Jay _ . Then he started moving, holding Joker’s hips still so that he could fuck into him. 

 

This was the first time that they’ve fucked and Joker didn’t have the gag in. He bit his cheeks and his tongue and swallowed down every word he wanted to say. It wasn’t rough but every thrust hurt Joker’s ribs and when Joker arched his back his skin tore open even wider. He moaned and keened and panted under his breath. 

 

The shower was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Batman fucked him deep rather than fast. He doubled over Joker, wrapped one arm around his slender hips and covered Joker’s mouth with his other hand. 

 

Joker was grateful for it. All of it. The slight change in angle made Joker cry out Bat’s name with every thrust as his prostate was hit repeatedly. The hand kept Batman from walking away at the sound of Joker’s voice. 

 

It turned out that Batman liked to talk. He really liked to talk. He whispered sweet, terrible nothings in Joker’s ear. He breathed them against Joker’s skin like a brand. All the while he kept thrusting into Joker. 

 

Joker saw stars. His nails curled into his palms and his toes curled and he cried as he was fucked. He cried because he thought that maybe Batman meant what he was saying. As the pleasure built within, Joker dropped one hand to his cock and started jacking himself off. His hand was a blur on his cock. 

 

They came at almost the same time. By the end of it, Batman was the only thing holding Joker up on his feet. “Jay?” Batman gripped Joker’s chin and tilted his head up. 

 

Joker tried to say something but he couldn’t form anything more than French gibberish. Joker didn’t blame himself. He was tired and hurt and fucked out. His head lolled back and he lost a little more time. 

 

When he came to, Joker was laying flat on his back on a bed. A towel was shoved under his right side and there was another towel over his waist. Spread out on the bed were the contents of an extensive first aid kit.

 

Bats was crouched over him with a towel wrapped around his waist and his daytime mask still on. His brow was furrowed in concentration and his blue eyes stared intensely down at whatever he was doing with Joker’s side. “I know it’s tempting but don’t move, baby.” He didn’t look up. “This is going to scar, Jay.”

 

Joker rolled his eyes. “Big surprise.” He wasn’t thrilled about scars from someone who wasn’t Bats - he’d get Bats to redo them with a batarang - but he did get fantastic super sex out of it. Joker lifted his head to look. 

 

The skin over his ribs had been shredded. There was blood everywhere. A few stitches where Bats was doing his best to reconnect the tissue. But it wasn’t easy. Bats had big hands but he handled Joker’s wound delicately. Despite that, Joker’s skin kept curling in on itself. It was thin and tore easily. 

 

Joker couldn’t feel any of it. “What’d you give me, darling? I gotta get me some of it.” He let his head flop back down. 

 

“Novocaine, but enough to knock a horse on it’s ass,” Batman answered.

 

“I’m not a horse. I’m a clown,” Joker protested. 

 

“Clearly the dosage should be higher for clowns,” Batman deadpanned. His lips twitched. 

 

Joker squinted. “Did you just make a joke?” 

 

“Shh, I’m trying to fix you.” 

 

Joker rolled his eyes again. “When are you not trying to fix me?” 

 

“Jay, just shut up.” Batman went back to attempting to stitch Joker up. It was going to be a sorry job. 

 

Joker laid in silence for all of sixty seconds. He didn’t like how quiet it was. There wasn’t even rain this time. “Put some music on or something, Bats.”

 

After some hesitation, Batman started humming. He started over a few times, humming a few different tunes before settling on one. “I’m only one call away,” Batman started singing, “I’ll be there to save the day, Superman got nothing on me,”

 

Joker snorted. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face though. Bats had such a nice singing voice. And he  _ was  _ better than Superman. 

 

Batman got through the song and then sang another one without being prompted. His voice was lovely and his hands were steady. 

 

Under the pressure of the anesthetic, Joker closed his eyes. He heard Batman’s voice still singing to him in his dreams. 

 

When he opened his eyes again it was light out and Batman was still in bed with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> The song Batman sings at the end is One Call Away by Charlie Puth. I get a kick out of it every time I hear it because of Batman's dislike of Superman in the Lego Batman movie.


End file.
